


Morning Memories

by mugenjo



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Sort of I guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugenjo/pseuds/mugenjo
Summary: A King is only human underneath his armor and crown.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Morning Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for [Nabashi](https://twitter.com/Moesaure) who worked hard with [Tigerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealink) to make sad headcanon about how Aglovale got his sword. Here, have their crime with [fanart](https://twitter.com/mobasaure/status/1249695547600048129) on Nabashi's side account.
> 
> So here's my crime, that I wrote at 5am on my phone after being awake for maybe a little too long...  
> A big thanks to [Jaden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadenGrace1) and [wishblade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishblade) for the beta.

The King of Wales' days were mostly the same.

It started two hours after sunrise with an envoy that came to deliver sealed letters. After sorting them to deal with important official matters first, he would leave his study to deal with the task of the day. Often, it was some meeting about the reconstruction of the country or some dignitaries from neighboring countries to deal with traveling merchants. Those usually delved far into lunch time, and when they didn't, Aglovale mostly spent his meal time reading and writing replies to the sorted letters from the morning.  
Kingly matters never failed to keep one busy enough to nearly miss the sunset; if it wasn’t for the lack of light and the need to continue working, afternoon — even evening would come and go in a blink. Sometimes, it was some magical research that kept him up until early in the morning, allowing Aglovale to grab only a handful of hours of rest.

Sometimes, a meeting would be canceled. Sometimes, research would take over any other obligations. Sometimes, sealed letters would be left to be dealt with the next day. After all, he might be a king, but Aglovale was also only human.  
There was only one ritual that Aglovale never missed. It didn't have anything to do with his duty as King. Nor even with his unquenchable thirst for magical knowledge.

Every day, without fail, he would walk into the private royal garden, his sword at his hips. The air would still be fresh from the dew, the first ray of sun starting to peek at the horizon. Then, slowly, he would raise his sword, eyes closed, before starting the same movements every day. The first he learned from his mother.  
It was not some training routine, each move slow and precise. And sometimes, as the sun rose to warm his skin, he could even convince himself that she was here again, teaching him those moves. Her laugh would ring in the air as she helped him lift the sword too heavy for his little arms back then. Her kind encouragement whispered as she guided him through the routine; the smell of Wales' roses that stuck to her like her skin was made of petals.

But everyday, with the last movement, the illusion shattered as he would open his eyes. There were no hands to help him to keep the sword in the air. No warmth behind him that whispered encouragements and affectionate words. Only him, the roses of the garden, and some bittersweet memories.

Without a word, he would then sheath his sword back at his side. And as the day would soon start with some sealed letters, he would leave the garden and those memories. Every time. Until the next morning.

For a King must show no longing for the past. Only thrive for the future.

**Author's Note:**

> _please don't be mean, i'm just a smol french writer whose brain switched in english without their consent..._


End file.
